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<title>I miss you, Dean! by Cant_find_a_perfect_name</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312923">I miss you, Dean!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_find_a_perfect_name/pseuds/Cant_find_a_perfect_name'>Cant_find_a_perfect_name</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crying Sam Winchester, Dead Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, pre-season 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_find_a_perfect_name/pseuds/Cant_find_a_perfect_name</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean dies, the younger brother comes to visit his grave.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I miss you, Dean!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first angst fanfic so it might not be as sad as I thought. If you don’t like this, please don’t read it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a windy Sunday. On the empty road, an Impala driving forward, into the field where a man was buried. It stopped, a tall man stepped out, his hand carried a big plastic bag. He approached the grave slowly. The name “Dean Winchester” was craved on it. He kneeled in front of the grave, a small smile was drawn on his face.<br/>“Hello, Dean”, he said, “I brought you presents.”</p>
<p>He took each item out of the bag. Each time he took one, he raised it at the grave like he wanted to show Dean what he brought.</p>
<p>“There are beers, burgers, and pies. Lots of pies.” He said excitedly, like a mother gave her child birthday presents.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what favor do you like, so I bought all of them”, he grinned, a happy grin, despite the fact there were hints of wetness at the corner of his eyes, “The shop owner looked at me like I’m an alien.”</p>
<p>The man tried to hold the tears threatened to escape his eyes. But they were too many, he was barely able to control them, so he just letted them out, rolling on his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Hey, remember my birthday when I was ten?” He asked playfully, “you were out all day, you said you had something for me, a present, you said. It was a dress you stole from the shop, and I was so angry.”</p>
<p>His voice was brittle. He laughed, but they didn’t sound like a happy one. It liked a sad one, the laughter you made when you trying to be positive in a blue day, when you trying to sue away the sadness and fail. </p>
<p>The man’s mouth was laughing, but there were tears exiting his eyes nonstop. If the outsiders looked at him, they’ll think he was crazy. Well, maybe they right. Maybe he was really crazy. Because no one could understand the pain he felt everyday, no one could understand the dead man, his brother, Dean Winchester, meant so much to him. They’ll never be able to understand, so yeah, they thought he was crazy.</p>
<p>“I... I don’t know why I’m crying. I should be happy, because I’m alive, not a corpse lying six feet under like you.”<br/>He grabbed one of the beers, opened it, and tasted the liquid inside. People say beers made the sadness gone. Liar! He drank half the bottle but the sadness still there. It was never gone. The bitterness of the beer plus the saltiness of the tears made him realize how miserable and broken he was. Like a hurt and hopeless animal was trapped by the predators, and the predators here were the depression, the sorrowful, and the loss of his brother. </p>
<p>“I guess you must’ve hate me right now, I cried in front of you, I forget about your ‘no chick-flick moment’ rule.” He said, his voice was now broken.</p>
<p>He had no idea why he decided to talk to Dean. His brother was in Hell, being tortured. There was no way those merciless demons would let him hear his brother’s voice. He was stupid. But why was he talking to him? He didn’t know, maybe it was because his broken heart told him to. </p>
<p>“I... I miss you, Dean!” He confessed, “I don’t care if you told me to stop crying. I miss you!”</p>
<p>His hands covered his tear stained face. His eyes were bloodshot, and if he continued to cry, they might pop out. But how could he stop? The pain, the sadness were overwhelming. He couldn’t do anything.</p>
<p>And so, the man kneeled there, crying. The windy still blowing, the leaves on the trees still moving. They kept doing their jobs, they didn’t care about the crying figure, because as he said, no one could understand his sadness.</p>
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